


A Little Death

by Anderseeds



Series: Hellsing works [11]
Category: Hellsing
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Millenium, Catholic Guilt, Established Relationship, Gangbang, M/M, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:21:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25802788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anderseeds/pseuds/Anderseeds
Summary: Alucard smiled knowingly. The same smile he always wore when Anderson yielded to him.Alucard wants to fuck Anderson with his familiars. He successfully convinces Anderson to let him do this.
Relationships: Alucard/Alexander Anderson
Series: Hellsing works [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1622206
Kudos: 54





	A Little Death

Being the sort of men who were better at exchanges of violence than of intimacy, neither Anderson nor Alucard were good at pillow talk, and neither of them expected much of the other. But Anderson couldn't help being frustrated with Alucard's recent efforts. He'd begun making the same proposition every time they were winding down after sex, and Anderson just knew he asked during the afterglow in the hopes Anderson’s orgasm-addled mind would make Anderson more accommodating to his whims.

“My familiars could make you feel incredible if only you’d let them.”

Alucard never phrased his propositions in the same way. It was always something different, some new reason why Anderson should allow the corpses residing in Alucard’s void (the existence of which made Anderson uncomfortable enough without him being _fucked_ by what inhabited it) to have sex with him. It would be a new level of intimacy for them; it would give a first-hand demonstration of the extent of Alucard’s power; it would make Alucard immensely happy; it would make _Anderson_ immensely happy; It was worth trying once; it would bring them closer- the reasons never stopped coming, and Anderson never stopped rebuking them.

But Anderson’s resolve wasn’t resolute, at least where sexual propositions were concerned. He’d kill Alucard one day; he would never compromise on that; he would never stray that far from God’s light, but he’d accepted that he was attracted to Alucard and maybe even _liked_ him a little, and there had been a consistent theme of him indulging Alucard’s sexual proclivities since then. For the most part, he didn’t mind the things Alucard approached him with. He didn’t know how to navigate a sexual relationship, so he found it relieving that Alucard would propose lingerie and bondage and flogging and asphyxiation – pleasant things he never would have thought to introduce to their relationship. He’d only ever offered a token protest to these suggestions to give himself plausible deniability. Sex with his familiars, however… he’d seen a few of them, just a sample of that power, and they didn’t look like they should exist at all, let alone exist in the mortal realm long enough to desecrate a catholic priest. They were an affront to all that was holy, and Alucard wanted him to have sex with them.

The thought was absurd. The thought was repellent. The thought was something he never should have humoured- and yet, he was. His resolve was breaking. And to his chagrin, it wasn’t entirely because he was tired of Alucard asking every time they had sex.

Experiencing a new level of Alucard’s power held allure. There was always equal amounts excitement and revulsion when Alucard revealed some new, ungodly ability of his - a new thing Anderson had to learn to combat, a challenge no one else could provide - and he was further tempted by Alucard’s promise of euphoria if he submitted to Alucard's request. Anderson was not a man usually driven by worldly pleasures. He’d gone without intimacy for sixty years and going without sixty more would have been a trifle- but only if those years were absent of Alucard. Alucard had managed to get under his skin in a way no one else had, burrowing so deep that Anderson couldn't ever hope to extract him. He resided in Anderson in some incomprehensible way, and he generated in Anderson a shameful desire to experience Alucard's pleasure and power. The soul of an Iscariot soldier was already damned, but he felt his further fragmenting with every concession he made. Never had the expression of _a little death_ been so true.

“La petite mort,” he murmured, following yet another of their encounters.

Alucard smiled knowingly. The same smile he always wore when Anderson yielded to him.

The hands that clamoured over his body were cold and rough. Not withered or corpse-like, as he’d been anticipating, but no less unpleasant for that. They made quick work of his layers, tearing them away with all the ease of tissue paper to unveil Anderson’s trembling skin. Nails scraped along his chest, catching on his nipples, while a set of hands tore into his hair and pressed his cheek into the floor of the quiet, moonlit corridor they were occupying. Their clandestine meetings were almost always held in empty buildings on the outskirts of Badrick.

The thralls were quiet save for the noises created by their movements. The ones Anderson had seen before moaned, like your common ghoul, so Alucard must have silenced them to better hear Anderson's reactions. And he was going to be thoroughly indulged tonight, because Anderson couldn’t stop whimpering and groaning while the familiars clamoured over his body and touched every inch of skin and dug into places even Alucard hadn’t been. He moaned raggedly as a cool, wet tongue dragged over the head of his cock, slathering it in the oily black of Alucard’s void, and it was so rough and so unyielding when it trailed back down to the underside that Anderson's thighs shook. The oily black expelled from the familiars' facial orifices was such a strange substance, but the pleasure counteracted any reservations he had about it touching his intimates.

“Do you recognize them?” asked Alucard, his voice jarring Anderson out of the moment. The familiars parted as he approached and knelt before Anderson, sliding his long, graceful fingers beneath Anderson’s chin and turning his head to view the bodies clambering atop him. “I promised to give you more insight into my power, so look. Gauge it for yourself.”

Anderson's saliva thickened in his mouth. There were additional thralls now, and he recognized their distinctive Wallachian armour from history books. He’d known Alucard was unique among vampires and he’d always had his suspicions about who and what Alucard was, but now he knew for certain, and knowing meant he also knew the true depths of the depravity of their relationship.

“Alucard,” he breathed, squeezing his eyes shut as hands closed around his hips. “Your own army?”

“To let them go to waste seemed a shame.” Alucard dropped low, face a hairsbreadth from Anderson's. “Turks are among them. But Turks don’t deserve to fuck Alexander Anderson. Speaking of…”

The cock that breached him was almost too big, and certainly too fast, slamming into the hilt without any concessions for Anderson’s comfort. Anderson cried out, and Alucard caught the sound in his mouth by drawing Anderson into a kiss. The rhythm of the thrusts were just as brutal as the entrance had been, sending Anderson’s knees skittering across the cement and his cross swinging through the air. Alucard held his head in place and swallowed every shout and whimper that followed.

Being a regenerator, he could tolerate roughness. There was no breaking him, and Alucard knew it. Those punishing thrusts didn’t ease and they didn’t need to, because it wasn’t long before Anderson’s body had adapted to the intrusion, and nor was it long before the pressure on Anderson’s prostate sent Anderson’s eyes rolling back and his cock beading with pre-come. He found himself rocking into each thrust, as he so often did during sexual encounters with Alucard.

His arms were drawn behind his back, pinned to his spine, and he didn’t attempt to free himself despite being fully capable of doing so. He hadn’t the faintest inclination to try to escape from this particular assault. Holding him this way made it easier for the familiar to fuck into him, and for two others to slide under him and apply their mouths to his cock and thighs. The graze of teeth over the delicate skin on the insides of his legs had Anderson choking on his own breath, both because of how the drag plucked at his nerves, and because of how very attractive the inherent danger in having those teeth so close to him was.

“You’re taking that beautifully,” murmured Alucard. He released Anderson’s mouth only to guide one of his familiars to occupy the space a moment later. Not with lips, but with their thick, veiny cock, which bumped up against Anderson’s mouth and settled heavy and cold against his cheek.

“Open,” Alucard instructed, and Anderson did.

He kept his jaw loose so the familiar wouldn’t encounter any resistance when it thrust in. It did so slowly, much slower than its compatriot, its cock gliding over Anderson’s tongue to settle in the hot depths of his throat. The care the familiar took wasn’t enough to prevent the activation of Anderson's gag reflex, which sent saliva pooling and tears gathering at the corner of his eyes, both of which created streaks on his cheeks and chin as the familiar began to move. Its slow, shallow thrusts made it difficult to draw in air and the addition of asphyxiation gave each application of pressure to his prostate a strange, fuzzy quality, like he was submerged in the static of a television. But it wasn’t unpleasant. It was the opposite, in fact: _euphoric_ , just as Alucard had promised it would be. He was hot and shaking and he thought distantly, vaguely, in fragments, that he never should have refused this.

When he spilled onto the filthy cement, it was with a cry that was audible even with a cock half-way down his throat. His thighs trembled, his fingers and toes curled, he shed tears and drooled and the magenta of his face was so intense now he felt as though it were on fire. Regenerator or not, he was probably going to be walking like a newly born foal after this.

“Stunning,” said Alucard with a smile like a sickle. “But I think I can drag a few more out of you.”

The onslaught didn’t slow at all. Even as his arousal started to flag, his lips remained stretched around the impressive girth of the familiar’s cock and the hips of the familiar behind him continued to jar against his ass. Alucard reached beneath him and closed his fingers over Anderson’s cock, the silky quality of his glove pleasant enough to bring Anderson back to hardness almost immediately. Being a regenerator meant Anderson didn’t have much of a refractory period. He just needed to be stimulated to get going again, and Alucard’s touch was always more than enough.

“We have all night,” continued Alucard, his voice a purr. “And you denied me for so long that I think I deserve to indulge, don’t you?”

Anderson didn’t and couldn’t respond, not even with a sound or a gesture. Expert strokes to his sweet spot made it impossible to do much of anything except shake and moan.

“Let’s see how long that regenerator stamina lasts.”

* * *

Apparently it lasted until dawn, at which point Anderson was so exhausted that it took him several minutes to find the will to rise from the floor. He didn’t know how many times he’d come, and he didn’t know how many cocks had been in him to draw out that many climaxes. After the fourth or so familiar Alucard had set upon him, he’d started to lose track. There might have been two cocks in him at one point, or maybe one very big one- it was hard to say since his memory got hazy toward the end of the night.

Alucard drew a packet of tissues from a pocket and began to clean away the mess on Anderson. As vicious as Alucard could be during sex, he was surprisingly gentle after the event. Provided Anderson let him be, anyway. During their first few trysts, Anderson had rejected any attempts Alucard made to be kind. If he was to have sex with the vampire, he’d been determined to let sex be _all_ it was. A shameful, mindless indulgence that he would perform penance for every Sunday. No affection; no intimacy; just two men satiating themselves with each other on a new battlefield. Unfortunately, (or maybe fortunately), Anderson hadn’t been able to maintain that for long. He wasn’t a cold enough man to be able to stomach such an arrangement, and frankly, he’d been fooling himself by thinking sex with Alucard wouldn’t be a complicated, emotional affair when every _other_ aspect of their relationship was. 

He let his forehead drop to Alucard’s shoulder while Alucard cleaned away the filth and manipulated his shadows to dress him. Alucard was in the habit of tearing through barriers to Anderson’s skin, so Anderson always brought a fresh change of clothes to their encounters. 

“You seemed to enjoy that,” said Alucard, popping his clergy jacket buttons into place. “Did you find the information I imparted satisfactory?”

In his fatigue, he'd almost forgotten about that revelation and how inappropriately conveyed it'd been. He pressed a sigh past closed teeth. Just a fraction of the exasperation he would have liked to express, but immediately after sex seemed a bad time to air grievances. 

“I already had my suspicions about who you were," Anderson admitted.

“What gave it away? The fact my name is the reverse of 'Dracula'?”

“Oh, shut up.” Anderson swatted his shoulder. “Dracula was presented as _fiction_. I’d no reason to think you were until you started providing hints to your age and ability.”

“I’m surprised you let this continue if you had suspicions,” said Alucard.

Anderson didn’t say anything to that. He couldn’t think of an answer that wouldn’t incriminate him more than this entire arrangement already did, and he couldn’t admit to himself or Alucard the true reason behind his acquiescence. In the interest of maintaining the good mood, he pressed on.

“When will our next meeting be?" he asked, glancing down to watch Alucard pull his clothes into place. It was always a marvel, how precise Alucard’s hands could be, no superfluous movements to them at all. "It'll have to be in a few weeks, at the earliest. There’s only so many times I can claim to be patrolling Catholic lands in the same month.”

“A few weeks it is, then,” said Alucard. “Unless I find a reason to be sent to Rome. We’ll see.”

“Don’t just come barging in if you do.” Anderson turned his head and applied a kiss to Alucard’s throat, relaxed enough to indulge in idle affection. 

Alucard leaned into the touch, cupping a palm over Anderson’s nape. “I’ll come barging in only if you’re alone.”

Anderson snorted. “You'll make sure I'm alone so you can barge in, you mean."

“Exactly."

“Bastard," said Anderson, closing his teeth over a slither of skin. All Alucard did was hum appreciatively, so it wasn’t much of a deterrent.

“Will you be allowing me the pleasure of employing my familiars again?” asked Alucard as he dragged his fingers through the fine hairs at the nape of Anderson's neck. Anderson ceased his biting to tilt into the touch. 

“Wasn’t once enough?”

“You know once is never enough for me, Anderson.”

Anderson pursed his lips. “I’ll _consider_ it.”

He raised his eyes, and he saw the corners of Alucard’s lips curling into that familiar, knowing smile.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Hotter than a blueberry flame](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25802851) by [Anderseeds](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anderseeds/pseuds/Anderseeds)




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